


Death is an Old Friend

by TUTUBUGx13



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Blood, Comfort, Death, F/M, Hurt, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:58:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2760497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TUTUBUGx13/pseuds/TUTUBUGx13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been too long since the destruction of the reapers, so where was Shepard? wounded, bloody, and alone- waiting for death. She only wished that he was there with her in that moment. GarrusV./FemaleShep - rated T for language - multi POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

That boy. The catalyst. He—it was with her again. This time it was so much better though. All of the suspense from the dreams that Shepard had had aboard the Normandy was gone and filled with a sense of true peace. The empty forest was replaced with a dark that she didn't believe even the brightest of lights could pierce, and yet next to her was that little boy staring up at her with a smile. He was pure light just like when he was aboard the crucible and in this moment, she wasn't sure if what she felt was warm or cold, but she was serene. There was no wondering or worrying. She knew where she was or where she was headed. Death was with her and she was not afraid nor was she expecting otherwise. After what she had done—what she had been through, she was almost waiting for this feeling of peace. Even if this peace was worth such great sacrifice.

"You surprised me." Said the AI in the child's voice. This century's old program was finally free to rest as if she was. "You have such faith in the world that you have put so much work into building up." The child took to walking down what now appeared to her as a tunnel with a light at the end. Throughout the age-old human saying about dead, her feet moved to follow it. Her chest ached and she felt cold. She was sore in all sense of the world. There was only that one thing that kept her here.

Once she was dead, she would not feel this hollowed pain anymore. The pain of not being able to be with him. She knew that soon he would find a new path that lead away from her. He was alive and she felt peace. Her every fiber told her to fight—to push and pull until she could see him again. She could feel the fight draining from her. The war had gone on for so long and when she got to where she was going, she would go take a seat at that bar and relax for once. She would wait for him.

"You can tell yourself what you want to," continued the AI. "But you aren't done yet. Not nearly." That was when she noticed it—the fact that as she put a foot down she took a step away from the light. The boy was almost gone now. He was so far off that he turned into the light at the end of her tunnel. So why couldn't she follow?

"I am not so cruel as to do this for no reason. Do not worry. You are free to go. You are just not free to die yet."

That was it. Darkness enveloped her and suddenly she felt all of her pain crashing back through her body. To the very tips of her fingers and toes, she felt a pain that was more than just a sharp sting in her heart. Her arms, legs, everything was pinned down and all that was above her was a crack of what could have been daylight. She had no strength but her heart was racing now and her armor, no matter how bent and broken, had somehow kept her from completely bleeding out. The crash must have been massive and yet she survived. Adrenaline was the powerful natural substance that saved her life in that moment. With more strength than she could ever muster on a good day she pushed one of her hands up through what she assumed, in those small moments, was the wreckage of the citadel itself. She shifted around whatever large rubble crushed down on her and, with one arm, pulled herself halfway out from underneath. That was as far as she could go but it was far enough.

She thanked the stars that she wore her heaviest helmet that day and that the Cerberus implants seemed to be doing their jobs, but now she could do no more. This was more pain than she had ever felt in her entire life, but physically and emotionally. Seeing the sky again, she almost wished to live just one more day. Even if it meant another fight or another reaper, she wanted to live to see him one more time. Her body slumped back down and fell completely against the now cold ground. Above her shone, a red sun in a greenish sky but soon enough she saw nothing; her heart and her mind battled between rest and desire. It was unintentional but she would later come to realize that this is what kept her alive.

It wasn't until so much later that the crater that the citadel had created was found. Its still burning fire giving away its location only to finally die as the first recovery ship landed.


	2. 2

They had said their goodbyes so many times that he could have sworn that he was ready for whatever would come. But when she had ordered him back to the ship, "There is no Shepard without Vakarian," is what she had said. Still, he knew the moment he let go of her tiny human hands, what it was really going to feel like to lose her. Everything became clear; she meant the world, the stars, and the galaxy to him. There was no Shepard without Vakarian, but in that moment, he knew it meant the same for him. There was no Vakarian without Shepard. For years, he had been by her side and now he couldn't even remember who he was without her. He thought that it was hard the first time he lost her- back when the feelings he held for her were nothing more than a simple bubble in what he now saw was a sea. Now he truly knew how terribly and ferociously he needed and loved her.

Now he doesn't sleep. When he does, he dreams of her: Bloody. Lost. Alone. Everyone had given up hope of finding her. Maybe that was why his dreams all consisted of temptingly possible images. It had been too long, almost a full week, and the search teams had turned up nothing more than a few dead bodies. So every night his head flooded with guilt driven images of the woman that he loves—loved, pulling herself through a new desolate area. Every night she looked the same, in her shift with her feet wrapped with make shift bandages. Crusted blood stuck to her brow as she limped her way through his mind.

He wanted to believe that this was possible. Not that she was lost and alone, but that she was alive. The world was in remission but he could never follow in those footsteps without her. Not when every time his lids finally dropped, there she was. His heart sank and flew at the same time watching her. Most of the time he distracted himself. Pushed sleep from his mind. However, when it all became too much he turned into the selfish man that he desperately wished that he could be. He would let his eyelids drop and pray for sleep to come so that he could see her. He wanted her to be in pain because then at least she was alive.

This time felt the most real probably because he had kept it at bay for so long. She was laying there under a tree just on the outside of the wreckage, watching the fire around her. She had her armor on again and her helmet too, but the visor was blasted in and her face was busted up past recognition. That was when he noticed the hardest thing about this dream. She was crying. She balled and un-balled her fist as she stared into the still burning fire and let her tears drop.

"Garrus?" he heard her say in the way that he could only imagine she would sound like. He had never heard anyone, let alone her, sound that weak and quiet. Her armor was dented in and spilling blood with every gasp for air. His heart broke all over again as he heard her plead for him, "Garrus? Garrus please..." but somewhere along the way, the voice changed and his eyes opened.

"Garrus, dude, you need to see this," Joker's voice called again through the PA system as he sat up from Shepard's bed. (When he did sleep, he slept there. It was just easier for everyone if the room wasn't completely empty all of a sudden. Still he hadn't gotten a full night nor had he taken off his armor since returning from the medical bay.)

"I'll be down in a few," hummed his vocals through the groggy moment. Even his voice seemed foreign in that moment. He lurched over and dropped his head into his hands. The tears were new and they hurt just as much coming from him as they did in his dream. Turian tears were something that few people saw in a lifetime. He had seem them too many times to count in this last week.

"Garrus. You need to come to the war room now." Joker finalized. He dropped his usual sarcastic demeanor as he spoke these last words. The usual bleep, of the com being dropped, sounded. Joker, or Jeff, got his name from his constant barrage of horrible jokes and satirical nature. Even after the end and all of the terror of this week, Joker was always the one that Garrus could count on to not treat him differently. Thus, when he said those last words Garrus pulled his face away from his hands and stormed down to the lift. God, he wished there were stairs leading from this godforsaken room. In his state right now, all he could think about was she. They had found her... Or what's left of her. That thought specifically had put two separate dents in the metal walls of the Normandy on two separate occasions. Now he was only contemplating ripping the doors open to get to where he needed to be. Never before had this elevator seemed slower than the millisecond right before the door was wide enough for him to pass through. He pushed himself beyond the now empty, useless security terminal and finally found himself in the presence of every person who still lived on the Normandy.


	3. 3

The crew was all there, huddled around the table of the war room. Everyone was quiet but each in synch as he walked in to room. Every pair of eyes watched him standing, walking, living. He knew that what they were feeling for him was pity but he swore he could feel his own self-disdain seeping into their glances and stares. That in turn seeped into his own usually calm demeanor and resulted in what humans only had a similar word for. A low gurgling humming sound in his throat that resembled only a small growl. He was not sure in that moment nor in the future whether the others could actually hear this sound and he only prayed that his current emotional state didn't offend any of them too seriously. However, in that moment—he was offended for them, by them, just by being in the room where she wasn't.

No one said anything even when he entered the glassed off area and found a nice leaning spot in the middle of the room. Maybe they didn't notice the gurgle but did they notice his foot tapping? What about the way his mandibles flared through his unease? Why weren't they fucking saying anything?

"What's going on?" he finally let loose in the calmest way that he could. The question jogged through his head again, about whether or not they could see his jitters through his words. They all knew the situation that he was in so maybe they all just pretended they didn't see it. Either way, no one in the room replied or seemed to be staring at the parts of him that jostled. Actually, he noticed that now they all seemed to be distracted by anything else but him. The floor, the walls, the table—all of them were far more interesting to his crewmates and friends. Unfortunately, he didn't see what they did in these things. Fortunately, he didn't need to. A sort of mechanical/electronic blip sounded and everyone looked to the table all at once. That was why they didn't answer when he asked what they were doing there. Everyone in the room was just as ready to hear this news as he was.

Joker's image appeared above the table in hologram form. His eyes focused on what everyone knew to be his view of space before reaching forward to turn on the autopilot.

"Sorry guys, I never really knew how much work EDI did" he trailed off and stared off into another form of space. "On a separate note-"he continued, looking directly at the camera this time, "I have news that all of you need to hear." There was a beeping to his right and he took care of whatever alert there was before returning to the conversation. The room fell quiet again and everyone sat metaphorically on the edge of their seat until he looked back to wherever the camera sat.

"They've found it." Garrus's leg stopped jostling and his every muscle froze. There wasn't a moving muscle in the whole room for that matter. "The search teams that are still searching found whatever is left of the citadel—or should I call it the catalyst?"

"Where is it?" he interrupted before Joker could get any farther. The ferocity in his own voice scared even himself. There was no question that time whether anyone else could see how he was handling the situation. "Have they found…" he paused and looked down for a mere couple of seconds. "Have they found anything?" They all knew what he was asking and they all wanted to ask the same thing. Maybe they didn't love Shepard in the same way as Garrus did but they all loved her none the less.

"On the last planet you'd check. Earth." The whole group looked at the flickering hologram at once. Earth was the closest planet to the blast of the crucible and yet, with all of the fire and destruction on the planet's surface, no one would be able to find that specific crater any faster than the rest. "You guys know we're on the top of the list to get the call so I don't have any details yet. I just know that someone needs to get down there as soon as possible." Garrus swore that if Joker could, he'd be making eye contact with him. Garrus needed to be down at that site searching. If that was where the wreckage was, then that was where she was.

"Get there. Now." He growled, swiftly turning and making his way out of the room. "I'll be waiting." Were his last words before the door closed automatically behind his back. All that nervous energy that had been in him for the week had started to die today. Now it built up an up, faster and faster. He willed the elevator to move and carry him down to the armory. All he could do now was wait for Joker.

"How did I know he was going to say that?" Joker quipped in a voice that held all the pity he didn't care to cover up. "I set the course when I got the message. ETA: 05:50." His image disappeared and the rest of the room stood about with their backs against the walls and their feet on the ground. They all had different hopes for what they'd find. Some prayed beyond all hope that they would find Shepard alive while others thought that it would be a miracle simply, to find her cold dead body. Only one thing was truly universal about their thoughts and that was hope.

Shepard was the one that kept them together all of the times that they thought that they would fall apart. She was the thing that all of them wanted and knew that they needed. So they hoped. God, they hoped.


	4. 4

There were more dead faces to check through than anyone could have guessed. The Citadel had been evacuated and all civilians were mandated to board a civilian ship that quickly headed as far away from Earth as it could muster. Still, there were over a hundred bodies found in the half-warm wreckage. That number, while still a trifle to the number of lives lost in any other place in the galaxy, was still more than it should have been. Too many old men who knew their time was coming anyway. Too many street children in the vents who had never and will never have the lives that they probably deserved. Too many good people trying to get the lost and alone out before D-day. No matter how hard the people tried, or cared to, the sheer number of lifeless bodies laying in rows on the ground was still a taunt to the people looking to identify them.

So many desperate sentences beginning with "If I had only" passed in to one person's head and through another and like the person next to them they could have done no more than they already had. This, of course, would never stop people like Garrus Vakarian from thinking like this as he surveyed every face of every body. He knew in the deepest part of him that if he had just gone with her, then at least he could be by her side right now. Even if he found himself in one of these lines of bodies on the hard ground, then at least he would be next to her. If she were stranded in some desolate place, while being bloody and bruised, then at least he would be too. And if there was an afterlife with an open bar and a free dance floor, then he would be buying her drinks for the rest of eternity.

He also knew that if he had been with her, then he would incur the wrath that was Shepard. A small laugh like grumble escaped his throat at the thought. The human woman to whom he gave all of the love he was capable of giving was the scariest and most wonderful woman that had and will ever exist. In this place full of death and destruction, he found a grim amusement in his loss that the people around him all seemed to find in disgust. The possibility that his sleepless nights would end tonight was slim but the feeling of laughter in his vocal chords was warm, sweet, and terrifying like the woman he loved.

It was becoming easier to think in the past tense, he realized, as he saw the mortality all around him. Bodies upon Bodies all in a line and he was finally coming to an answer. He had not seen her yet, but the chances that he would not was slim. The chances of her still being alive was near nonexistent. He let out a hum that was supposed to be a sigh and tried to push the thought out of his head. He could tell that if he wasn't careful in controlling his emotions, then he could end up breaking down in front of everyone. One does not dishonor the dead in that way, he told himself before briskly walking out of the mass grave and toward the trees surrounding the wreckage. The rest of the people that he left behind barely noticed his parting as their minds were preoccupied. Taking a moment for himself was all that he could do at that time.

As he came to these realizations, his head was filled with all new thoughts. "If this is where she died then I pray to whatever God is out there that she got to see through her death to her surroundings." That she took in these beautiful trees and calm breeze in her last moments and felt peace. The trees were very beautiful; though that was something, he never would have noticed before he met Shepard. Their height and Strength were things he could have appreciated as the soldier he once was, but never their beauty. He scratched a talon along the bark of the nearest trees as he passed them slowly. The sound was beautiful as well, in a way. His mandibles twitched as he let out another hum and he let his feelings escape through his sigh.

"Shepard, you better not have been in pain." He spoke into the empty forest before stopping and laying a taloned hand on the tree closest to him. "Or at least tell me it was fast." His voice was a whisper now as he stared at the ground. The tree roots were marbled or stained but this didn't truly catch his attention, not at first. As he surveyed the grass and dirt and tree roots below him, the stain became something new altogether. He knelt and scratched at the stain.

"Blood." He said as he strung it together. He stood quickly and looked around him. There wasn't much but there was something. In a bald spot of dirt just five feet away was a spatter of blood. After that just a new, splotch here and there, though in a clear path. Someone had walked out of this wreckage and that someone was bleeding heavily. It wasn't much but Garrus's heart ached at the possibilities. He didn't know what he wanted as he followed the trail. Did he want to find her? To know that she fought? Alternatively, did he want her to be alive only to have suffered such a great atrocity? He didn't know for sure but he didn't stop following the blood either way. He was going to find what he was going to and there was no stopping it. Not when he knew the possibilities.

The trail was longer than he thought it could be but still understandably short. When he found the end something in him snapped. Another laugh like gurgle escaped his throat and he fell to the ground on his knees.

"Shepard," slipped out from his mouth. He couldn't move because she wasn't moving. She didn't even look like herself. Blood and bone were everywhere and her armor was dented beyond repair. The ground around her had soaked up the blood that she lost and was stained red before them. She didn't move and he could even tell if she was breathing. Of course, she wasn't alive. Had he really been hoping so? He reached for her hand and wrapped it up in his own. She was cold but that wasn't all. It was as if every bone in her fragile fist was broken. The feeling of seeing her limp and broken before him was terrifying but not as much as what he felt. It was small and barely there but he felt it nonetheless. Under her bruised skin was a heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it. For all intensive purposes this story is finished, though I'm considering adding another chapter that is more fluff to make up for all the pain. It would be a hospital chapter in which Garrus is clingy. Either way- This work is completed officially. If you'd like to hear that last part I can write it. Just let me know.


	5. 5

She had woken back up in a matter of seconds of her first fall back into the wreckage. Her twisted and broken limbs could only lift and carry her so far before she slid down the side of a tree away from the heat of the fires. The pain had only succeeded in growing and branching out into the parts of her that she didn’t think could feel pain. Her hair, teeth, and fingernails ached and her lungs burned from what she hoped was the smoke inhalation and not a puncture. How long had she been in that pile of burning metal and bone? Too long and yet still longer than she would have expected herself to live. Every time she blinked, her eyes burned, telling her that she should give up and rest—to just let her eyes close and go to sleep for good. But the catalyst was right. Even if the words came out of the mouth of a small child that didn’t make them any less true. She wasn’t meant to die yet or else she would have. She pushed herself to think about what she was going to live for.   
Her crew was her family. Joker was her annoying brother. Grunt was her nephew with a temper problem. Tali was her hot cousin that she had weird feelings about. Jack was her sister that just needed a loving hand to hold. And Garrus… Garrus was what she truly told herself that she would live for. When she saw him again—if she did, she was going to ask him to spend the rest of her life with her. On earth it was a tradition for the man to ask and she had no idea about Turian traditions, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was his answer. She tried to smile but her lips were cut clean through in two separate areas, only two of her many fresh wounds.   
She could count at least five major broken bones for sure but she also knew that she couldn’t move her whole left arm. Not that it was numb. No. She wasn’t given that courtesy. If it wasn’t for her armor she would have bled out by now but she wouldn’t be surprised if an infection set in before she was lucky enough to die.   
Maybe it was the slow loss of blood or the bashed in helmet but she felt the weight of her wounds like a heartbeat through her temples but her head was heavier now. She let her head drift back and lean against the tree. She could hear noises like aircrafts in the distance but it didn’t matter as she surveyed the trees around her.  
“Beautiful,” she finally tried to speak. Her voice came out cracked and dried, forcing her to realize the utter lack of water in her body. Her armor would run out of medi-gel soon and there would be nothing she could do. She smiled through the pain of her cut lips; a small trickle of fresh blood slid down her chin. She smiled up at the light starting to pool through the leaves down towards her. “I wish you could see this, Vakarian.” She said through a half closed mouth. It was getting harder to keep her eyes open but she knew that the key to survival was just that. She wasn’t strong enough, though.   
Only seconds passed before she was in that other forest. The leaves continually fell around her and the ground smoked like it was burning. She waited for the catalyst but he never returned. She never saw him again as a matter of fact. But she did feel something. Her pain subsided as her hand was enveloped in another. She looked up and her sniper stood before her smiling down towards her and he picked her up into his arms. He swung her around in a circle and all she felt was shear happiness. She knew what she was feeling was a dream. Her heart couldn’t take much more. But if this was the last thing she saw before she died then she was happy at least that she would see his face once more.   
“Shepard,” he hummed into her ear and nuzzled his face into her neck. All of her pain was gone. She was happy. “Shepard come back to me,” his voice trilled softly and sadly and when he pulled away she couldn’t see the sadness in his face. He was only a dream after all.   
“I’m right here, Garrus. I’m right here.” She said in her own cracked and saddened voice, opening her eyes in the bright light of the day. Or was it the day. Her eyes adjusted and she stared above her at the white light of the glass ceiling above her. There was nothing there that she remembered. No trees or leaves. The words “I’m right here” still laid on her tongue but it felt like she was stuffed with cotton. The dull pain in her head reminded her of her injuries and she tried to will herself to sit up. Someone had found the wreckage. They had found her.  
“Shepard, please,” the voice caught her breath in her throat and her head fell back into her pillow. She felt it again—a hand enveloping her own. Garrus. She tilted her head to the side and tears started to fall down her cheeks. Garrus sat in a chair too small for him at the side of her hospital bed, slumped over from exhausted obviously restless sleep. His hand held hers and his head laid on the empty space of the bed between her leg and the floor.   
“I’m right here, Garrus.” She whispered, attempting to squeeze her hand around his. “I’m right here.” His face relaxed slightly and his grip on her hand tightened. She smiled and she could barely feel the burning in her already healing lips. “I’m right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to say that this isn't the last chapter and neither was the last one. Also sorry that it seems rushed if it does to you. I felt that we needed a transition chapter in-between all the angst and the fluff. Sorry if my writing style seems different. I haven't been in the mood to write this story in a while. THIS is why I don't upload stories here when they're unfinished.


	6. 6

Garrus slept; he slept and dreamt of beautiful forest with ever flowing leaves and cool smoky floors.  
He dreamt of her—dreamt of holding her hand—of holding her—of her.   
She was broken but beautiful when they brought her back. He felt her heartbeat and let out a terrifying yell that only served to express his own horror. How could he have wanted her to be alive and to be in this condition? How could he be so happy when she was so small in that moment? He never left her side. The paramedics, who had been on site but were of no use to the lines and lines of corpses, were almost thankful for the distraction from the unchangeable death in front of them. Every paramedic rushed to help. One checked her vitals. A few strapped her to the gurney. Another kept the small crowd of volunteers from getting to close. The medic ship, one of the fastest of its kind, zoomed up close and never touched ground while they loaded her into the back hatch. Garrus followed, his lanky sharp shape bent into the empty space that was available. No one who saw the look on his face dared to say anything.   
The closest medical ship was only orbiting the planet and her recover started as soon as her gurney was injected into the ships blood steam of hallways. She was miraculously stable even after her medigel had been depleted but the doctors made sure that none of her armor was removed until they were able to take a few scans of her injuries.  
She had 47 broken bones—most of them weight bearing, and 209 breaks total. Her ribs were almost all cracked and her body was covered in lacerations deeper than she should have been able to withstand. Her armor had to be cut off of her and only a piece at a time so that they could be ready to perform emergency surgery if any unforeseen bleeding occurred. They started with her legs that were wobbly like a child’s dessert and her feet, where a good portion of the breaks were. They continued with her arms, her head—that was so bruised it was a miracle that it wasn’t broken, and finally her abdomen. It was a godsend that there was no other area that required it, but as soon as the armor was off her underclothes started to be colored with a deep muddy red. They prepped her for surgery while five other doctors splinted her legs and arms. Her head was blocked in and strapped down.   
The surgery was long and difficult for Garrus. The doctors couldn’t get him to leave the room but they forced him to give them space.  
“Commander Shepard will die if you do not give us the room that we need.” They said. So he backed off into the corner of the room away from the fast beating of Shepard’s heart and the subtle feeling of panic throughout the room. He would give them space if Shepard needed space. He would give her his own organs if she so required it but every second was agony.   
They sewed her up relatively quickly but to Garrus it was years. Only three of her organs had ruptured and one of her lungs had a small perforation but it was simple fixes for those who had been practicing medicine for their whole lives. Shepard was going to be okay. There was no telling when she would wake up but she would live.   
So they set her up in the nicest room. The nurses brought in one of the reception chairs for Garrus, it was too small for him to be honest but he thanked them none the less and pulled it as close to the bed as possible.   
He grabbed her already healing hand and laid a hesitant kiss upon her forehead, each of her eyes, and finally her lips before laying his head on the bed so he could see her before letting his months of tiredness drag him into the deep dark of his eyelids.   
Garrus slept.

 

Garrus slept; he slept and dreamt of beautiful forest with ever flowing leaves and cool smoky floors.  
He dreamt of her—dreamt of holding her hand—of holding her—of her. His voice called for her and she answered back. It sounded like it had in his dreams before, cracked and dying but this time she smiled so radiantly the stars held no contest. He was a romantic in his dreams.   
“I’m here, Garrus,” he heard her call somehow so close to him. He could feel her warmth. He could feel himself glowing as well and he squeezed her hand finally seeing a real glow behind his eyelids. It was warm and bright and he had a terrible ache in his lower back. Something beeped above him and something small and soft squeezed his hand.   
“I’m right here,” she said and his mind, slow with sleep, registered where he was and what was squeezing his angular hand.   
“Jane,” he heard the word slip through his mouth with a low warble that sounded like disbelief even if he knew she was right in front of him. He took her in and a wave of relief hit her. Maybe he was scared all along that finding her had been a dream all along. Her body was already repairing itself. Her lip was mostly healed up, a new pink scar forming already. Her color was returning and from what he could see her foot jostled back and forth like it usually did when she had something on her mind. Her leg obviously didn’t hurt that much anymore.   
“Hey there Vakarian,” She said in that horridly cracked voice again. He couldn’t keep a grimace off his face and he wondered if she could see through his scales and his eyes that she refused to look away from.   
“You need water-“he started to stand when her hand weakly gripped his and kept him anchored.  
“Just stay here with me,” she said with a smile that she barely grimaced from. Still sore then. He let out a small vibrating laugh and pulled her hand up to his face and felt her soft skin on his.   
“That’s my line. This time I won’t let you leave me,” he said with a rather feline purr and a smile that warmed her heart.   
“No shepherd without Vakarian, right?” she smiled so brightly he barely noticed the one tear the slid down her cheek.   
“No Vakarian without Shepard,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END. Thank you so much for following this and for your patience! I'd appreciate any feedback and if you're interested in my writing you can check out my fanfic account for my unfinished stories as well (same username). THANKS AGAIN FOR ALL THE SUPPORT!


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